What I Need
by ShelbyLehnsherr
Summary: *X-MEN FIRST CLASS* *ERIK/CHARLES* Takes place during the chess scene. Erik is determined to kill Shaw, but Charles is worried that he will get seriously hurt in the process. He intends on showing Erik just how much he truly cares for him.


**What I Need**

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><p>"<em>Cuba, Russia, America. Makes no difference. Shaw's declared war on mankind. On all of us. He has to be stopped."<em>

There were very few things in life that were certain. Death was guaranteed, but the question as to when remained a mystery. Typically, death is never planned, but sometimes, there are instances where certain individuals make an exception to that assumption. Erik Lensherr had been conspiring Sebastian Shaw's murder since he was a boy, shortly after his mother was shot. He made a vow that he would not rest until he himself put that man in his grave.

Erik leaned back in his chair, staring intently at the mutant across from him. He knew how Charles thought, what his goals and ambitions were, and what he intended on achieving at some time in the future. Even though he could not form a consensus with a lot of the points that he made, he could agree with one thing that he just said.

Shaw has to be stopped.

If he did not stop him, millions of innocent lives would be lost at the hands of this madman, and peace on Earth would cease to exist. Erik placed the half empty glass of scotch on the nearby end table, swallowing the strong liquid with a grimace. "I'm not gonna stop Shaw," He started, earning a slightly confused look from the telepath. "I'm gonna kill him."

Erik saw Charles face fall. He also knew that Charles was against killing. No matter what the circumstances, he never saw killing as a necessity. This is where he and Charles differed. Killing Shaw was necessary. Stopping Shaw would not truly put an end to his reign; it would merely halt whatever plans he did have for an incalculable length of time.

"Do you have it in you to allow that?" Erik leaned forward slightly, a mischievous glint in his bright blue eyes. He seriously doubted that Charles was going to be supportive of his decision to murder Shaw. But as a friend, he was expecting that Charles let him do as he wished, and not attempt to stop him.

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><p>For Charles Xavier, life was very black and white.<p>

Though he was an optimist by nature, he'd always found himself in possession of the ability to rationalize nearly everything. His mutation, which should have otherwise been something completely intangible to the human mind, was instead a very scientific possibility; the arrival of Raven during the early years of his childhood was mere chance, a welcome occurrence that resulted in a companion that was able to understand him more wholly than anyone else in his life ever could; even his current involvement with the CIA, his quick friendship with Erik, and the fact that his home was suddenly filled with mutants who were far too young to be caught in something so much larger than themselves were able to be extenuated within his own mind.

One thing that he could not coherently process, however, was Erik's nearly overwhelming desire to kill Sebastian Shaw.

A privileged childhood and equally indulgent young adulthood had robbed Charles of any experience of the wrongdoings in the world; though he, as a telepath, was able to bear some semblance of the pain of those around him, it was merely that. He was a bystander, and while he certainly did allow the world's various misfortunes to weigh down his shoulders from time to time, he'd never been faced with such a thing directly. In comparison to his friend, Charles had been blessed with an almost mockingly carefree life, and because of it, he was unable to thoroughly comprehend just why revenge dominated the other's mind.

The loss of his mother may have been great - this he never, ever doubted on Erik's behalf, despite his own personal detachment from his mother - but Charles found himself at a loss when it came to understanding why Erik had allowed such a quest for vengeance to completely consume his life.

Killing Shaw would bring him nothing, Charles was sure of it. There would be no peace that accompanied such bloodshed; the loss of the man's life would not resurrect his mother or bring any fulfillment to the gaping hole left in his heart. And though he cared deeply for the man seated across from him - far more deeply than even he would have liked to admit - he could not allow himself to turn a blind eye as he had done so many times in so short a time.

That was a line he was not fully prepared to cross, though he felt himself steadily bounding toward it as the inevitable confrontation between them drew nearer.

_"I'm not gonna stop Shaw. I'm gonna kill him."_

His stomach twisted at Erik's words - for they were final, resolute, his mind was already made and Charles knew from the sharp glint in his eyes that there was nothing he could do to alter his decision. A sigh welled up inside him, its escape prevented by lips that were pressed too tightly together. He couldn't do this; he couldn't sit idly by and allow this to happen right before his very eyes.

There was, truthfully, very little chance at success even if he was supportive of his friend's decision; Erik was powerful, far more powerful than even himself, but so was Shaw. It was a losing battle before they'd even truly begun.

_"Do you have it in you to allow that?"_

Certainly he did not. He did not have the ability to allow Erik to commit murder, no matter how deserving Shaw was of such a fate, and he did not have the ability to allow the risk of Erik failing. He felt his heart ache at the very thought of it; Erik acted without thinking far too often for his liking, and he could see the worst unfolding even though he fought against it - Shaw knew Erik, was aware of his way of thinking and means for action, and he could very easily twist the odds into his favor. What would prevent Erik from being injured, or worse, killed?

Charles frowned again, pressing his index finger and thumb around the bridge of his nose. His gaze settled on the other's face, steady and uncharacteristically solemn as he struggled to find some means of changing Erik's mind. Stopping Shaw would be just as effective as killing them, though he was sure that Erik would never even fathom such a possibility.

"You know very well that I do not, my friend."

Erik knew the answer before it ever left Charles lips. Considering his views, of course he would not condone Shaw's (imminent) death. Killing Shaw had the potential of initiating a whole other war between mutants. Some mutants would be disgusted at the thought of killing one of their own, but then there was the possibility of eliminating a mutant that could prove (or has proven) to be a threat, thus, eventually wiping out their existence altogether. That is exactly what Erik intended on doing. Wiping Shaw off the face of this planet would mean a decreased chance of harm to everyone living in it.

Erik's gaze shifted to the chess board, suddenly interested in the fact that he had more pieces remaining than Charles. It was an excuse not to see the twinge of hurt in Charles eyes. He wasn't going to bargain or compromise, because that would alter the entirety of his plan. He was going to do this his way. He was going to avenge his mother's death in the only way that he saw suitable. "Then you cannot expect for a peaceful co-existence of humans and mutants in the future."

Erik paused a moment, finally bringing his gaze up to meet Charles own. "Shaw will do whatever it takes to ensure that does not happen." There was an unmistakable hint of seriousness in his tone. As much as he wanted to convince Charles that killing Shaw was justifiable, he knew, in the end, it was a lost cause.

War was, ultimately, inevitable. Shaw's death would cause backlash of its own; there were mutants in existence who did believe themselves to be superior to the lesser race of humans, mutants who would see Shaw's murder at the hands of one of their own as the ultimate form of treason. He viewed this war with an even greater form of apprehension and dread, for he found resolution to be even further out of his grasp. While any semblance of peace between humans and mutants seemed vastly difficult to achieve, Charles clung to the hope that it would, someday, be possible. Their actions tomorrow held the potential to catapult such mediation into action, but only if they were extremely careful.

He found himself shaking his head at Erik's words, his lips again pressed into a thin line. Couldn't expect it? There were many things in his life that he could not readily expect, but such doubt had never hindered him before. Vengeance may have been Erik's ultimate goal, but peace was his own. "I've learned not to rely too heavily on preexisting expectations, Erik." he countered as he lifted his gaze to the sharp blue eyes staring at his own. "Shaw may believe himself to be completely invincible, but you and I both know that there are always chinks in the armor that are merely waiting to be discovered."

Vaguely, Charles was aware of the fact that he wasn't merely speaking about Shaw anymore. He leveled Erik with an austere gaze and sighed - wasn't Erik mindful, even slightly, of the concern he possessed for him? No matter how prepared Erik believed himself to be, Shaw was a man of many tricks; nothing was preventing him from pulling yet another out of his sleeves. Erik was throwing himself to the sharks, blind to the risks that swarmed around the entire situation. But Charles was not, and he was fully prepared to take any course of action necessary to keep his friend from acting in such a way that would compromise his life.

"I've known what I must do," Erik replied, moving to stand. "Even if it means risking my life, I will do anything I can to see my plan through to completion." He gave one final look at the telepath before he slid his hands into his pockets, and slowly proceeded towards the fireplace a mere few yards away.

He sighed as the heat of the flames danced over his skin. His fingers played idly with the Nazi coin in his right pocket, a grim and cruel reminder of his goal. It was almost torturous, but it was with him everywhere he went. He heard Charles shift behind him, then his footsteps as he neared closer. "And I am asking that you not stand in my way."

Charles stomach twisted uncomfortably at Erik's statement - the other didn't understand. He couldn't possibly understand what sort of position this put Charles in. But couldn't he see, even just the tiniest bit, how concerned he was for him? Of course the telepath was concerned for the others as well - they were far too young to be thrown into this sort of conflict, and had he had his way following the attack on District X Headquarters, they all would have been sent home straightaway - but the others he could protect and at least somewhat control. Erik, however, was completely different; he had never been the type to bend to the will of others, and though he could have, Charles could not find it in his heart to forcibly prevent him from acting irrationally.

He watched Erik stand and move away from him - he was always moving away from him, it seemed - to pause again by the fireplace. For a moment, they simply sat in silence; words were building in his chest, Charles could feel the unyielding pressure of them, but he remained quiet. The tension was doing them very little good, and he pinched the bridge of his nose again, closing his eyes for a brief moment. When he opened them again, Erik was still standing by the fireplace, his hooded eyes focused solely on the dancing flames.

"_And I am asking that you do not stand in my way."_

Charles felt himself shake his head despite the fact that he knew Erik couldn't see the movement. Not stand in his way? How could he not? He stepped toward the other man quietly and almost warily, as though he were afraid that he would turn and walk away from him again. "You know I cannot do that, Erik." he said. "I cannot simply stand aside and allow you to get hurt, or worse, killed."

Erik did not know whether to take that as an insult or a legitimate concern. Was Charles doubting his abilities? Did he truly believe that he would come out injured, and Shaw be without so much as a scratch? As he pondered the statement a moment, he concluded that he was thinking too much into it, and let it go. "What would it matter?" He asked, shaking his head and pulled his hands out of his pockets, bringing one of them up to rest on the mantle above the fireplace. "I'm just one person, Charles."

But as one person, he felt he could bring about change in the world. Humans did not understand. They were blinded by prejudice, and assumed that because mutants were different than themselves, that they were dangerous.

Of course he was just one person. He was just one person like Charles was one person, like Shaw was one person. The logistics of it didn't matter; a life was a life and he refused to allow another to be lost. Darwin had been killed so early, at a time when Shaw's threat was still somewhat of a minimal concern. Now that they were aware of his real plan and the hazard it posed for all of mankind - humans and mutants alike, even - he was even more determined than ever to spare any sort of bereavement. Erik may have just been one person, but he was one person that Charles did not plan on losing.

"What would it matter?" Charles repeated dubiously, expelling a scoff in a rush of breathe. He couldn't fathom Erik's reasoning; did he truly believe his own life to mean so little that he was willing to potentially lose it to revenge? Surely not.

He sighed again quietly and ran a hand through his hair, turning his gaze again to Erik's back. "Honestly, Erik. You sound as though you believe that no one would care if something happened to you."

Erik had to resist the urge to laugh. For the moment, his lips were a thin line, a deep furrow in his brow. Who did he have to care about him? He lost his mother, didn't know what the hell happened to his father, and had no friends or siblings: there was no one. "Maybe because I do believe that, Charles." He tapped his fingers idly on the mantle, staring absently at the fire.

The past sixteen years have been lived alone. He was accustomed to it. He grew up on the principle of believing that he was independent, and anything he wanted to accomplish could be done without anyone's help. He seemed to get by a lot easier on his own, or at least, that is what he thought.

Erik's other hand came up to rest on his hip, his tapping on the mantle ceased only so he could grip the edge instead. "There is no one to care."

He felt a frown tug at the corners of his lips as Erik spoke. The vast majority of the man's life had been spent alone, this he knew - he'd been isolated even in the concentration camps, when Schmidt had singled him out above the rest. His mother had been ripped brutally from his life, his father's fate was unknown but very easily guessed, and there had never been anyone who'd been willing to fill the holes they'd both left. Erik had blocked himself off, built walls so high and so strong that very few people could even begin to chip away at them. Despite this, however, he certainly couldn't believe that he was alone in the world; not when he had someone standing right there with him, someone who was more than willing to stand right there with him for years to come.

"Erik..." he trailed off and shook his head, so very frustrated at the entire situation. It wasn't fair, nor was it right - Charles was still grappling with a solution, one that would both quiet Erik's yearning for vengeance and create some semblance of peace. He stepped forward, closing the space between them as he wrapped his arms around Erik's abdomen and pressed his face against the soft material of his turtleneck. "Please don't be so foolish as to believe that."

Erik could have jumped in surprise when he felt Charles' arms wrap around him, but his feet remained firmly planted, and he showed no sign of discomfort. It was strange, how different this felt. However, the feeling was in no way unwelcome. Erik could not quite describe his thoughts, but he supposed it didn't matter.

Charles was a mind-reader, right?

Feeling Charles warm breath on the nape of his neck sent a pleasant shiver down his spine. His stomach was twisting in turning in a way that it never had before. It wasn't because he was nervous, he knew that much. It was something he'd never felt before, so he could not quite place what it was.

Erik let his hand fall from the mantle, then turning in Charles loose grip. Now, his back was to the fire and he was looking down at the man (who stood a head shorter than himself) he'd so quickly come to trust. What made Charles different than everyone else? Erik had to give a slight smile when those brilliant blue eyes stared into his. So warm. So inviting. "And why shouldn't I?"

Charles could feel the tangle of emotions emanating from Erik - not discomfort, not anxiety, but something else, something even he couldn't readily place. If he truly thought about it, he wasn't sure what even he was feeling; something had driven him to close the distance between them and reach out, but what? The fact that he didn't quite know was both terrifying and exhilarating, and though his heart was pounding in his chest as Erik turned to face him, he didn't pull away.

They stared at each other for a moment, and he smiled slightly, his eyes searching Erik's face. A small part of him was surprised that the other hadn't pulled away yet; he'd thought, for a brief moment, that he would shy away from the contact immediately.

"_And why shouldn't I?"_

There were dozens of things he could have said in reply. Because he wasn't alone, because he mattered, and, Charles realized with a jolt, because he loved him. His attachment to the other had occurred very quickly; though they'd only known each other for a short period of time, his feelings for Erik were much more pronounced than they'd ever been with anyone else. Charles lifted his hands to cup Erik's face and his smile widened just slightly. With the added contact came an onslaught of thoughts from the other mutant, and as his mind settled on one particularly interesting cognition, he laughed quietly.

"You want to kiss me?"

Seeing Charles expression made his own grin widen ever so slightly. Never before had he felt so inclined to be close to someone. It never particularly interested him, being as how he had assumed since he was younger that he would be better off on his own. Now, he was beginning to think that he thought such things because he had never felt love before.

_Love._

Having love now, he wasn't sure he would ever be willing to give it up. Charles, being his first real and true friend, would always have a special place in his heart, despite how small he felt it was.

Erik raised a brow, a slightly puzzled look crossing his face. "How did you…oh." His hands fell to Charles waist, marveling at how perfectly they seemed to fit there. He pulled the shorter man in closer, their chests pressed firmly together, lips a few scant inches apart.

They were closer now, much closer than they ever had been before - Charles knew that they were taking an immense leap of faith, a leap that he had never truly been particularly comfortable with. And though his stomach usually would have been tying itself in knots because of something like this, he felt oddly at peace. There weren't any second thoughts or reasons to question his actions - it just felt, for once, right.

He laughed again at Erik's half-murmured question and the sound of surprise that followed it, leaning in to speak quietly in his ear. "I want to kiss you, too." Charles said mildly, as though he were suggesting a more trivial action and not something that could completely alter their relationship.

Desire welled in the pit of Erik's stomach. Those words did torturous things to him, and it was only because Charles was saying them. His smile faded, but a look of sheer want and need for this man took its place. His eyelids were hooded, lips slightly parted, hands giving an affectionate squeeze to Charles' hips.

Charles' words were the green light that he needed to go on.

In the next instant, Erik closed the gap between their lips, leaning forward into the kiss. It started off innocent enough, but as the moments passed, neither of them could handle the slowness. Erik's skin prickled with heat, face flushed as his tongue swiped Charles' lower lip, only to dip between them seconds after. Their tongues danced, neither one fighting for dominance, in a slow, wet union.

Erik inhaled sharply, taking in everything all at once. His thoughts were bombarded with nothing but Charles.

_Charles. Charles. God, Charles, yes! I love you._

Both the disadvantage and advantage of being a telepath was that Charles knew what someone was going to do before they actually did it - he could see Erik leaning in to kiss him, could feel the desire rolling off of him like steam as they stood for a moment in loaded silence. Despite that, Charles was not prepared for the moment when their lips actually met; something like electricity jolted through him and he felt himself pulling Erik closer instinctively. His arms wrapped around his neck as the kiss deepened, and his mind was consumed with nothing but the other man.

_I love you, I love you, I love you._

His heart was pounding with the realization and truth of it; he'd never meant anything more in his life. He needed Erik, far more so than he'd initially imagined, and he dreaded the day when he would not be able to guide the other away from the treacherous edge he was always teetering on. But for now, he was satisfied with where he was.

He drew away slowly and smiled fondly at Erik, arms still wrapped loosely around his neck.

'_You're not alone, Erik. Never again.'_

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><p><strong>-End-<strong>


End file.
